Closure
by zookitty
Summary: Tag for Croatoan and Hunted Dean knew that all this was far from over. He knew the wounds were still raw, but he also knew he hadn’t heard Sam laugh in quit some time and that gave him hope.


**Gibberings: **From now until Supernatural returns in january I will be posting one-shots every thursday. It's not the same as an episode but hopefully it will help with the withdraw ;)

**Spoilers: **Croatoan and Hunted

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Sam lay back on the bed, sighing from exhaustion. These last few weeks seemed to have taken an endless toll on him, but no matter how tired he got sleep wouldn't come tonight. Not when dreams of Jess were intertwined with his newest nightmare. Dad on the hospital floor, coffee dropping forgotten from his hand. Sam blinked away the sleep from his eyes. He couldn't handle another dream, not tonight.

The side of his bed titled slightly. Sam looked at his brother, the still open computer screen reflecting in those blue-green eyes. Sam could just make out the tensed jaw line and furrowed brow. He wanted to break the silence—he honestly did—but they had not said more than a few words to each other since the events with the crossroad demon. What could he say? Part of him was furious with Dean for even considering it, but mostly Sam was just scared. Scared of this reckless unpredictable version of his brother. Scared of losing the one thing he had left.

"Sam," the older finally forced out into the tense air.

"I miss him too," Sam replied to the unspoken words. Dean hated it when his little brother analyzed him, he hated it more when Sam was right. He looked down at his little brother, seeing the lines of exhaustion across his brother's thin face. Dean hadn't missed how Sam had been favoring his broken arm since he helped the lady cop break a body out of solid brick—hardly doctor recommended exercise. But it was the look of pain in Sam's eyes that went deeper than physical pain, that really got to Dean. Sam had been handling everything with a quiet, controlled calm that made Dean forget…Sam had lost _his_ father too.

Dean diverted his gaze. He knew he was barely holding it together. He wanted to hit something, and he really didn't want it to be Sam again.

"Do you remember when Dad went to hunt the Banshee in Palm Springs?" Sam asked suddenly.

"You were six," Dean replied without turning. Of course he remembered. He held the years of their childhood close to his heart.

"Dad was gone so long I got scared he wasn't coming back. Do you remember what you said to me, Dean?" Sam continued without waiting for a response. "You said, 'No matter what comes through that door or what doesn't, you and me are in this together." The older Winchester finally turned to face him, Sam's hazel eyes staring back with understanding and a bit of something else. Fear? "I need you in this with me."

"I am," Dean promised. The moment passed in silence. The first comfortable silence they'd had in far too long. Dean cleared his throat and turned away, the emotions to raw for his liking. "We're not gonna have to hug are we?"

Sam laughed lightly and Dean couldn't help but smile at the pleasant sound.

"How about some beer instead?" the younger hunter offered. Dean took one look at his tired brother. Sam was in no way 'bar condition' that night.

"How bout I bring some in?"

Sam nodded gratefully as the older Winchester headed out.

Dean knew that all this was far from over. He knew the wounds were still raw, but he also knew he hadn't heard Sam laugh in quit some time and that gave him hope.

He returned to the room with a six pack and the promise of at least one normal night…that was until he saw Sam lying on the floor panting through another vision and it all started again.

_-_-_

Five hours never seemed so long in his life. Dean nearly laughed with relief. Sam was alive and normal…or at least the Winchester equivalent to normal. Dean couldn't imagine how Sam had escaped infection from the demon virus, but he was not about to question their tiny bit of good fortune.

As the Impala shock the dust of that proverbial ghost town off its tires, Dean also tried to shake off the memories that went with it.

"You know, we never got to have those beers," he commented. A specter of a smile flitted across Sam's lips as he nodded. The older Winchester saw a lake coming up.

_Perfect. _He pulled over to the shoulder. He grabbed the untouched six-pack and pulled himself out of the car. Dean knew the liquid would be warm, but it wasn't really about that.

As the two brothers settled together, watching ripples dancing across pristine waters, Dean let himself relax a bit. Moments like this didn't last long for them and after almost losing Sam yet again, Dean needed to cling to it as long as he could.

All he could do was pray for a thousand more minutes like this with his little brother. All he could do was pray that they would make it through whatever was to come.


End file.
